You and I'll Be Safe and Sound
by maadd-asa-hatter
Summary: Set after Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch return to District 12. The three learn how to return to life as Katniss and Peeta rebuild the bond that she had a hard time admitting was there, once again falling in love with the boy with the bread.
1. Chapter 1 : Going Through the Motions

You and I'll Be Safe and Sound

AN: obviously, I own nothing. I just wanted to take my own stab at writing how Katniss and Peeta found each other once more after the War was over.

Chapter One: Going Through the Motions.

Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks.

Sometimes I wake up and it feels like the time after the first set of games. When we came back and set into a comfortable life style. The silence of the house, though, tells me it is not the same as before. The clock ticks ever on and I'm home alone until I hear Peeta entering with his bread. I pull myself out of bed and away from the nightmares that will probably always plague me. My arms wrap over my chest as I move down the stairs to at least greet him. Even though words don't come from my mouth, I nod my head and he mimics me with a small smile in return. Soon, his hands move to uncover a loaf of bread that I feel like I haven't seen in ages. My stomach almost growls in anticipation of the cheesy bread that Peeta would constantly bake for me before the Quarter Quell.

Peeta bakes.

We enjoy breakfast with Greasy Sae. It is a brief moment of normalcy before the depression starts to set in on us all once more. I become claustrophobic and the only cure is to run. Throwing on my father's jacket and carrying my bow and arrows, I head for the woods, careful to stay clear of the large hole in the meadow. I know that they won't fill it until all bodies have been found and the last ash is accounted for. I move easily through the woods, though getting my mind back to navigating like I did years ago is hard. It is almost like relearning the simplest of skills and my mind flashes for a second, wondering how hard it was for Peeta to get used to his leg. I try not to focus on that and instead on the game that I want to bring home. I'm having trouble hitting the animals in the eye, but I continue to try.

I hunt.

I'm too tired and emotionally drained to even attempt making the snares that I learned from Gale. The two rabbits that I was able to hit with my arrows will just have to do. I carry the game back towards the town, a part of me tempted to once again hide the bow and arrow to keep it safe. But the dead electric fence reminds me that it isn't necessary. Things are different, yet sometimes they feel exactly the same. I move easily through the streets, stopping for a moment outside of Haymitch's door. My hands are full of rabbit and arrows, so I kick the door with my booted foot. Surprisingly enough, he answers and I nod. It's all I can do at first because the smell permeating through the door is enough to make me sick. "I caught rabbits for dinner. Greasy Sae should be coming around to cook. Peeta brings bread. You should come, too," is all I tell him, inviting him to have dinner with us. I then turn and head towards my home as I hear a belch and his door shut.

Haymitch drinks.


	2. Chapter 2 : This Too Shall Pass

Chapter Two: This Too Shall Pass

I spend time in the kitchen in total silence. Not that I had anyone there to talk to anyways. Even if I did, the words won't come. Instead, I focus on my rabbits.

My hands move expertly over the animals as I skin and clean the meat. Out of habit, I try to salvage as much of the fur as I can. Someone might want it for something. I'm so used to using just about every piece of the animals that I hunt – it is how we survived. For a brief moment, I think of the Capitol. How we saw them want for nothing. They didn't know what it was like to have no idea where their next meal would come from. No, they just didn't know what room they wanted to puke in so that they could continue on with their gluttony.

My face scrunches up and it isn't until I feel the second rabbit's hind leg break in my hand that I realize I'm letting those memories get the better of me.

Ignorance really is bliss. I was much happier before I knew how life really was in that damn place.

Sighing, I finish my work, quartering the bodies, then storing them nicely. Greasy Sae is going to enjoy working with the meat. It will be like old times. Good memories to focus on. I try to ignore the darkness creeping up on me. The knowledge that all I have left of Prim are our memories that we have already made. I'll never know what silly things she will say. Never know if she will ever grow out of being my little duck with her shirt untucked in the back. I'll never know…

"If your hands aren't clean by now, Katniss, then I'd suggest a different approach."

Jumping a bit, I realize I was lost in my thoughts, unsure of how long my hands were under the cold water. I quickly shut the stream off, needing to dry my hands as I turn to face Peeta. "I was thinking," I tell him lamely as my eyes scan for a hand towel to use.

"Obviously," he replies, tossing a small towel in my direction. I catch it and glare at him. The fact that he knew where the hand towel was and got to it before me was enough to grate on my nerves, my mind a mess of nothing but irrational anger. He was always so perfect, wasn't he? Always had the right answers, the right thing to say, did exactly what needed to be done in every moment of his life. I continue to glare at him as I dry my hands on the offending fabric and then throw it on top of the kitchen table.

"What a pleasant surprise to see you this afternoon, Peeta," I say, completely deadpanned as I cross my arms over my chest. "What brings you here for this lovely visit?"

Instantly, he stiffens. "Just thought I would check on you. See if you might want to take a walk."

I shake my head. "I just took a long walk to the woods. Came back with two little friends for dinner. I figured Greasy Sae would enjoy fixing them up." While my hands are still crossed over my chest, I can't help but ask, my tone slowly less condescending. "You'll come for dinner, right?" I ask, not realizing how accustomed to his face I had truly become. Even just seeing it for a meal.

"Ah," he said, his hands in his pockets as our conversation has come to a stale mate. Peeta nods and it is a silent confirmation of our dinner plans.

The silence that creeps up on us is almost deafening. This game we play of waiting for the other one to say something first is slowly getting old and today he is going to be the victor as I can't stand the silence much longer. "I invited Haymitch," I offer and the look on Peeta's face acknowledges the fact that he expected to leave in silence in the next few minutes. "He might come over. Though, there wasn't really a confirmation so much as a belch. I figure he's coming up on the end of his stash." Now I'm talking a bit too much and I can't stand it. Finally, I bring a hand up to my mouth and start chewing on the already short nails out of habit.

"You really need to stop that, Katniss," Peeta says but I continue on. "It's not good for your fingers. You're going to make yourself bleed."

"I've had worse," I reply honestly and without thinking. Peeta's facial expressions go a little dark and sad at that and I realize it was in poor taste. Of course I have had worse. We all have. I bring my hands back down, clasping them together in front of me as the silence creeps back up out of no where

"Right, well," Peeta starts, this time letting me win the silent battle. "I should probably go bake some more bread, especially if we are going to have an extra mouth at the table tonight. Don't want to have to ration out the goods. Do you have any requests?"

I shake my head, my hands clasping tighter together as I resist the urge to bite at my nails. Peeta just nods once more and starts for the front of the house. As he nears the door, I don't try to stop myself. "Cheese buns," I call out, watching him stop in the open doorway and then give a nod of acknowledgement. A large part of me wants to believe he was smiling in the process.

I resist the urge to hide in the closet as the day progresses. It is hard, but I know I have to keep going. I have to try and continue to be a functioning human being. Instead, I choose to sit on the couch and stare into the fireplace, watching a fire that doesn't exist. I've grown afraid of fire, and for damn good reasons. I've been burned more times, physically and metaphorically, than I care to admit to. Winter is going to be really cold this year.

I continue the way I am until Greasy Sae shows up. Rising, I take her to the butchered meat and actually smile a little as I see how excited she is for the rabbit. Usually, I just let her take control of the kitchen and find someplace to lie down until she calls me to the table. Today I change my mind and stay in the kitchen. I watch as she seasons the meat with what few spices I still had in the cabinets. Once the counter space is freed up, I hop on top and continue to watch her as she prepares a rabbit stew. Every now and then I help her by peeling a root for her to chop up, but I mostly just watch. It's a sad thought that comes to mind when I think about the fact that Greasy Sae won't be around forever. And, while I can roast a vegetable and put a small animal on a makeshift spit to cook over a fire, I'm not really much of a cook. Greasy Sae is as good as anyone to learn from.

She excuses herself for a bit, saying she needs to go pick up her granddaughter and leaves me in charge of the meal. Periodically I stir the stew as she has shown me and then cover the pot back up. Part of me feels like we will need something else with this meal until I remember that the stew will be hearty and Peeta's bread will be the perfect finishing touch. Besides, if we want something sweet, Peeta probably has some cookies or something at his place. Not all of the smells from his house are savory, after all, and my mouth has watered a time or two at the sweetness in the air.

Greasy Sae returns first with her granddaughter, who helps me set the table for five. Peeta is next with a large basket covered in a towel that he sets lovingly on the table. We don't speak, but eye contact is made and slight head nods are acknowledged. Just as we are sitting down and I've all but written Haymitch off, the older man comes stumbling into the house and makes his way to the table with his hands full of liquor and paper.

"Nice of you to finally join us," I say, trying not to sound too terribly rude. He did show up, after all.

Flopping into his seat, Haymitch nods and puts his liquor on the table. "Yeah, well, can't turn down a decent meal in District 12 now can I, sweetheart? Besides, we all need to have a little talk."

"What's in your hand, Haymitch?" Peeta asks as I ladle a good helping of rabbit stew into my bowl and then help Greasy Sae's granddaughter before passing the pot on. Picking up my spoon, I stir it a bit to cool it as my eyes stay on Haymitch and the cluster of papers in his hands.

"I assume neither of you got a letter recently? From the Capitol?" Peeta and I look at each other before our focus is back on Haymitch, both of us shaking our heads no. "Well, good. This would be better coming from me anyways instead of getting the letter yourselves or seeing it on the news when they broadcast it. It seems as though we have a minor issue."

Sighing heavily I use my spoon to stab at a chunk of rabbit meat. Of course there would be an issue soon- Something going on to ruin everything. And especially when I was making enough progress to not want to remain hidden all day. I let Peeta man the battle stations and ask the questions. Haymitch continues, sliding the papers over his way before giving himself a huge helping of stew.

"Tracker jackers." He says and my eyes are instantly on Peeta. I'm watching for any sign that he might have a flashback. Any sign that I might lose Peeta. The fear is still so strong inside me that it surprises me how badly I don't want to lose him. Peeta is handling it well, though, his eyes scanning over the pages before him. "Seems as though word got out about your time in the Capitol, Peeta. People now know about the tracker jacker venom and how it was used against you. Peacekeepers have caught a few rogue experiments of people trying to do the same thing. And scared of another uprising while Panem is seriously very fragile, well, Paylor has decided to get rid of them."

"How kind of her to decide now to do it," I say before I can stop myself, my tone slightly sarcastic. "Every last damn nest should have been destroyed by 13 as soon as we knew what was going on with Peeta."

"Not that simple, sweetheart," Haymitch said with a shake of his head. "You should know as well as anyone that attempting to destroy those nests is dangerous. Besides, getting rid of them out here doesn't stop them in the Captiol. No, Paylor wants them all gone. All."

"And how does she plan to do that?" I ask, worry starting to build up inside of me. The idea of someone trying to get rid of a nest and the tracker jackers stinging Peeta is starting to swell in my imagination. It is something that I would prefer not to see ever happen.

"Beetee," says Peeta, finally looking up from the papers. "He's come up with a way that could kill the tracker jackers. But you might not like it, Katniss. I'm not even sure I like it that much."

I look between the two men, waiting for more of an explanation. It is almost like they have a little secret that they have no plans of sharing with me. I never so much cared about that when I was in school and girls acted like they knew something that I didn't know. But after everything that I have just been through, I feel as though I have a right to know. "Well?"

"Electric current bombs." Peeta says, his eyes directly on me as the words bombs pass his lips.

"Oh, well that's great. Beetee is wonderful at bombs. I'm sure Gale has some say in this as well," my voice raising in frustration. Bombs. More and more bombs. And just when you think you are done with them, guess what, here are some more bombs. I start to push my chair back, tossing my napkin on the table as Haymitch finally reached out to put his hand on my wrist to get me to stay. My eyes glare at him, though I don't raise from my chair.

"They have tested these out to near perfection, Katniss. And they are going to send a message to everyone in Panem to inform them all. This isn't a surprise bombing situation. And, if anything, it will make things better to have those mutts gone." He tells me and I pause for a decent amount of time before scooting my chair back to the table.

Peeta watches me the whole time and doesn't speak until I'm back to the table properly. "It says in the letter that on a certain day, they will release a large number of these electronic bombs. When they detonate, they will shoot out an electromagnetic current specially designed for the tracker jackers. The current should kill the tracker jackers almost instantly. A team will be designated to each district to find the dead tracker jackers and dispose of them and their nests."

I nod at the idea, though I still think it is risky, it sounds a whole lot nicer then smacking a nest and then running into water. "What about you?" I ask softly, watching Peeta across from me. "Is this electronic current going to do something to you?"

The look on his face tells me that he knows it was a nice was of asking if it might set him off again. Peeta shrugs, holding my eye contact. "The letter says they don't want me out of the house for a week and to be somewhere away from windows and doors when the bombs are supposed to detonate. I guess I'll just hide out in the house and make sure I have enough baking supplies for that week before hand. Though, not being able to go on a daily walk will be annoying."

"You'll stay here," I tell him, not even hesitating or thinking if it would be a good idea or not. I know it would be a good idea. Someone needs to be with him. I need to be with him. Peeta and Haymitch both raise their eyebrows and Greasy Sae smirks into her stew. "You're not going to be alone. None of us are. And I want to make sure that everyone is safe and ok. So you will all just…stay here. We will stay in the basement when they go off and then when we get the all clear, you can all go back about your business. And Peeta can stay with me and bake here until we are sure everything is fine and he is allowed outside again." Plus, there's an understanding between the three of us. If Peeta starts having a flashback, I'm one of the best people to bring him out of it. And should he get violent, then I need Haymitch's help.

"Alright, sweetheart," Haymitch finally agrees, nodding his head as we all go back to our stew.


	3. Chapter 3: Poison and Wine

Chapter 3: Poison and Wine

It doesn't take very long until the official notices are sent out. Paylor wants to make sure everyone knows what is coming and that makes me like her a little bit more. Letters are sent out and TV spots have been repeating for a week. The detonation date will be on us in no time. While Peeta and I don't hold long conversations with each other, I do help him get my house ready for his week-long seclusion. He doesn't complain about carrying crate loads of flour, yeast, and other ingredients, though every now and then I feel like I catch a hint of annoyance in his eyes. The deep, heavy sigh he lets out, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks over the inventory also tell me he isn't completely on board with this. He's doing it, of course, because I want him to. Even after everything we've been through, everything we've lost, the false memories he's gained, he does what I ask. I catch myself wondering if he still might love me and instantly shake those thoughts from my head.

"You alright?" he asks me calmly. My head stops shaking and starts nodding. Little things like this make me think he watches me like I watch him – Waiting for the littlest thing to set the other off.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you? Getting tired from all the moving?" I try to change the topic of conversation to him.

"I'm strong. I can throw 100 pound bags of flour." He smiles for a moment before it fades as if he's forgotten something. "Real or not real?" Peeta asks. I sit on one of the rocking chairs as I ready myself for the game we still play.

"Real. Though, that was _before_. I think you could still do it, though."

"_Before_…You told Haymitch."

I nod, watching him take a seat on the other rocking chair across from me. "You were singing my archery praises to Haymitch and it confused me why you were trying to help me. And I got angry that you weren't helping yourself and giving yourself enough credit. So I told Haymitch you could throw the flour and about the wrestling."

Peeta just sits, his hands clasped before him and his elbows resting on his knees. "Why did that confuse you?" He asks softly.

I pause longer than I probably should. This conversation could very easily head in a direction that I am not ready for. Not yet.

"Because even though we came from the same District, only one of use was supposed to survive. Twenty-four go in, one comes out. We were forced to become enemies and there you were supporting me. It confused me," I explain, my voice soft as I risk watching him.

Now it's Peeta's turn to pause. Just when I'm ready to leave this conversation, his blue eyes are on me and I'm forced in my place.

"You were never my enemy. I would always support you. And I still will."

His words are so simple, but are just enough to cause me to smile the littlest of bits.

"Me too," I say before the silence sets in once more between us. Only, this time, it is comfortable and not awkward like we had grown accustomed to.

Detonation Day comes and everyone in District 12 is acting almost as if it were another reaping. The town is quiet as I slip through, almost unnoticed, heading for the woods. Like the rest of District 12, the term bomb sets me on edge. We are all worried that these aren't just electrical bombs, but real ones. We've already lost enough as it is, who wants to live through another bombing on our district?

I'm not ready for the whole ordeal. The term bomb is being used so freely and all I can see is Prim and then my scars start to burn. So, I stick to the word detonation and head into the woods in hopes of catching and gathering enough for the next few days.

I check the traps first, rewarded with a rabbit in only one. It doesn't take long before my bag is full of greens and roots, my eyes on a few herb plants. At first, I pick the fresh herbs for both Peeta and I to use. But then I think of something better that could help keep Peeta occupied. Using my knife and hands, I am soon able to separate dill, rosemary, and thyme bunches with roots for replanting. One squirrel later and I'm ready to head back home, quite proud of myself.

Peeta meets me outside our houses, one last bag in his hands. He raises it up, giving it a small shake. "Clothes."

I smirk despite myself, copying his actions with my game bag. "Dinner."

A smile breaks out across his face and I hide mine by turning from him and leading the way into my house, Peeta on my heels. I hear him shut the door behind us and place his final bag on the couch. I continue into the kitchen, ready to show him my haul.

"I have something for you," I tell him, looking over my shoulder as he joins me in the kitchen.

"Did you shoot a squirrel for me?" he asks playfully.

"Well I did get a squirrel, yes, but for both of us. Hopefully there is enough salvageable meat. I haven't been able to hit them in the eye like before. But, I got his neck, so I'm getting better," I say, putting the squirrel on the table, followed by the rabbit.

"Still looks good to me," Peeta says from the other side of the table as he inspects the game with just his eyes. "Better than what I would do."

"Well, you stick with what you are best at. And this," I say, pulling out the herbs I picked first and hand them out to him. "Should help. Though, try not to use it all in your breads. I want to try a few things with it as well."

Peeta's eyes light up for a moment as a smile spreads across his face. "Oh, brilliant!" he says, reaching over the table for the bunches. I give them freely and watch as he brings them up to his face to smell them like Prim would a bunch of flowers. "I can't promise that you will get to use these before I bake with them. I have so many ideas."

"Well, I'm glad, but those ideas are going to have to be put on hold." Peeta looks at me confused before I hand over the clumps of bushes, glad that their roots are still intact. "You will need to tend to your herb garden first."

Peeta lets out a deep, hearty laugh- One that I haven't heard from him in a long time. The deep, happy tone resonated through the kitchen as well as my chest. It moves through me, warming me to the core better than any hot tea in a flask while hunting ever could.

"You look quite proud of yourself," he says, moving around the table by my side. "I've not seen you smile like that in a long time."

I start for a moment, realizing that Peeta was right. I am smiling…

"Well, of course I'm proud of myself," I say, letting him take the bushes. "I brought back things for our meals and almost shot a squirrel in the eye. I'm doing pretty good. Besides, those bushes will give you something to do and tend to during your prison time here at my house. That way it won't be so bad for you."

Peeta shakes his head as he moves expertly through my kitchen. I watch as he takes three hand towels over to the sink as he talks. "I don't think it will be bad, Katniss. And I definitely don't think of staying with you as a prison."

We both pause in our conversation as he runs water on each of the towels, leaving them in the sink. "I'm actually grateful of it, to be honest. I don't even know how this all will affect me and the thought of relapsing completely terrifies me. But, I feel like with you, I'll be safer. I won't be alone." Peeta nods at the bushes in my hands as I bring them to him at the sink. "See, you are watching out for me. That isn't prison. That is friendship. And I'm grateful to have it."

It is my turn to nod, but we've talked too much and the comfortable silence sets in once more between us. We work silently together as Peeta wraps the roots in the wet towels and I hold them as he grabs a twist tie that he usually uses to close the bags that keep his bread fresh and ties it around the stalks of the bushes to keep the towels in place.

Greasy Sae shows up at some point and drops off a couple of containers of soup. No amount of begging will keep her with us and she says she has to make sure her own family is safe and accounted for. I can't really blame her and reluctantly let her go.

The time of detonation is looming closer and I'm starting to feel incredibly anxious. Peeta is occupying himself by kneading dough of what will soon be cresants for dinner. At first I'm fine watching him. The steady rhythm of his hands seems so calming. But the anxieties start again and I rise from my seat.

"You," I say, pointing at Peeta. "Don't leave this house. I'm going to remind Haymitch that he said he'd stay here for detonation. I will be right back and you…put one of the soups on to warm up." I realize I sound quite bossy. Almost like our first day out of the cave in our first games. My tone softens considerably as I add to the end a gentle "Please."

Peeta nods and I try not to think about how I feel about how he looks with flour on his face. "Yeah, ok. I'll be here when you get back."

"Good," I say before leaving for Haymitch's house.

It isn't a long walk at all and after a few good knocks, I let myself inside. By now I shouldn't be surprised at the way the house is kept. Or, in Haymitch's case, not kept. It doesn't take long to find him, though and a splash of cold water to the face does the trick for waking him up. "You promised." I tell him when he stops sputtering and swinging his knife around. "Take a shower, put on some clean clothes, and be at the house in thirty minutes. You have to be there with us. When they are done you can come back here and drink yourself into a stupor, I don't care." And with that, I turn and make my way out without giving him a chance to say anything.

The mentor listened, though, and thirty minutes later he was at my house, ready for dinner. The three of us sat quietly around the table, watching a program on the television that explained in depth what was going to be happening in an hour. Haymitch continued to watch the show as Peeta and I cleaned up then set about turning off just about every electrical item that I had in the house, just in case. Fifteen minutes to go until detonation and I lock all the doors, check the windows, and lead the men into the basement by use of candles my mother had sent earlier in the week.

Once down stairs I start to light the candles that I had spread around the room so that we can see. As each candle is lit and light blooms into the small space, Peeta and Haymitch are able to see that I've set it all up downstairs to be quite cozy. Three spaces have been marked off with blankets and pillows, a spot for each of us. In the center is a small table with a radio on it, more candles, a basket of cheese rolls Peeta made earlier that morning, and bottles of water.

"I think someone found a new after games talent," Haymitch says as he lays claim to his section of the basement and flops down on the mound of blankets. "Interior decorating."

"I think she did a good job." Peeta adds, grabbing a cheese bun and taking a set of blankets for himself.

"I did it last night when I couldn't sleep," I tell him, crossing my legs and sitting down. "I didn't know how long we would be down here and I didn't want to risk anything and I wanted to make sure we were all comfortable. And, by the way, Haymitch. There's no alcohol down here. Don't want to blow up. And you might want to stay away from the flames yourself."

I hear a snort of laughter coming from Peeta's direction, though he tries to hide it from behind his cheese bun. But I know that he remembers a similar conversation when we were on fire for the first time. Knowing that he remembers brings a small smile to my face as I allow myself the moment to think that he is actually getting better.

Haymitch doesn't say anything else as he reclines into the pillows behind him. Peeta focuses on his bread as I pick at a loose string in the quilt at my feet. "Where's Buttercup?" He asks.

"He didn't want to be here. I tried to keep a hold of him but the fight was not worth the bandages that would come with it. Besides, he's resilient. That dumb cat could survive anything."

Then, once again, silence fills the air and I can feel my anxieties start to build again. My legs uncross as I bring my knees up to my chest, hugging them to me. It isn't much longer until detonation. Haymitch looks like he's asleep and Peeta is staring at the window that I've checked over and over to make sure it was locked and sealed good. Heaving a deep sigh, I burry my face in my knees and try to listen for any sign that the detonation has happened and that we are all safe. That is when I hear it.

At first I am not sure if it is my mind playing tricks on me. Raising my head up, I look around the room, the soft hum resonating in my ears. Haymitch meets my eyes and I know it isn't my imagination. The hum sounds so similar to that of the tracker jackers. I don't know if it is the bombs or if it is the tracker jackers trying to find safety. All I know if that I don't like it and I'm sure Peeta doesn't as well.

"Peeta," I whisper his name, turning to look at him. Only it is not my Peeta that I see beside of me and I suddenly feel like I'm in 13 all over again.

"Mutt!"


End file.
